


extra hot but made with love

by poludeuces



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Coffeeshop AU, F/F, idiots to lovers, is this in japan cause why am i using canadian starbucks drinks, op is a starbucks barista so it's stupidly precise, they are both idiots and oblivious
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:21:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23124691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poludeuces/pseuds/poludeuces
Summary: osakabehime is a regular at spacebucks, but musashi is a new face and she's struck.
Relationships: Miyamoto Musashi | Saber/Osakabehime | Assassin
Comments: 5
Kudos: 25





	extra hot but made with love

**Author's Note:**

> hello here are some things at the beginning
> 
> \- i'm not writing osakabehime like fgo na. im sorry but no.  
> \- i work at starbucks, so this might be.. too knowledgeable. im sorry.  
> \- some swear words  
> \- canadian drinks are described, i'm sorry if any of these aren't available in your country.

_Oh, she was perfection._

That was all Osakabehime could think when she reached the front of the line. Everything else in her mind—her order, what she had to do that day, the time, heck, even her name—flew. All she could think was gosh, this woman is beautiful.

_She must be new._

Was the next thing she thought. She had been visiting this specific Spacebucks since the beginning of the semester, and she had yet to see this girl working behind the counter. Exams were now rolling in alongside winter, and she would go grab her much-needed coffee every morning before classes. If she was going to roll herself out of bed, she would need some caffeine.

She hadn’t realized she had been staring until a hand waving in front of her face snapped her out of her daze.

“Ah! I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, her face suddenly turning red.

From behind the girl, she saw a face she recognized—a girl with light blonde hair, who waved at her. “The usual again today?” Ecchan asked.

She nodded and quickly handed over her coffee mug. That was thankfully a bonus of ordering the same thing every day—the baristas knew her order, even if she was tongue tied.

The barista behind the counter smiled brightly—oh, another direct hit to the heart—and waved at her. “Oh, so you’re a regular? Guess that means I’ll be seeing you a lot then!”

Osakabehime’s eyes fluttered down to the name tag, which, in scraggly writing, read Musashi. 

“And I will need to know your name then, for the order,” she continued, wiggling her eyebrows.

Osakabehime just quickly scanned her phone’s Spacebucks app in response and ran off to the bar to wait for her drink.

“Hey! No fair!” 

Osakabehime’s thoughts were running a mile a minute. Her face had never felt so red before. Sure, a lot of the girls who worked here were cute—Ecchan’s cool demeanor was comforting, and her body double Ex gave her the enthusiasm when she needed it on an exam day. But…there was something different about this new girl. Maybe it was the messy ponytail she had thrown her hair up into that seemed to separate her from the tight ponytails or the buns of the other employees. Maybe it was the chicken scratch of a handwriting. Maybe it was the way the apron seemed to hug her hips.

Maybe it was because she looked and sounded like a protagonist of one of her favourite animes.

Who could say, really?

Yet, one line kept on replaying over and over in her head. _‘Guess that means I’ll be seeing you a lot then!’_

How in the world was she going to survive now?

\--

Unfortunately, the next day, she had a nine-a.m. exam. And she stayed up all night half-studying and half-making up wild scenarios with Musashi as a shoujo protagonist. And she can’t get her UberEats to deliver her the order to her apartment when she wakes up. And, sadly, she still hasn’t found a way to be fully awake without at least two shots of espresso.

So, here she is.

She orders through the mobile app in order to skirt past the chance of Musashi being at the till again. It sucks—she doesn’t get her ten cents off, nor can she use her limited Dragon Ball Z mug. 

It’ll be all worth it if she’s able to quickly get in and out, though. Then she won’t possibly die from embarrassment.

As she steps through the front doors she’s hit with a massive line. Oh no. She’s arrived right smack dab in the morning rush. She darts past the line waiting for the till and prays that when she gets to the bar, she’ll see a cup with her name on it and she can swipe it and rush out without anyone noticing. The crowd can maybe even act as a cover for her daring escape.

Her hopes and dreams fall flat as she reaches the mobile stand at the bar, however. There are no drinks there, waiting. Her phone’s estimated time tells her that it will be a couple more minutes before hers is ready, too.

Osakabehime decides to slink to the back when she hears a familiar voice call out to her.

“Oh, it’s you again today!” 

She freezes, but slowly turns back around. She hadn’t been paying attention to who was making drinks this morning.

Musashi’s smile is as bright as the day before, and she pulls her hand off of the blasting wand to wave at her. “Good morning to you, too!”

“Good morning…” Osakabehime meekly responds. 

“How are you…” she pauses to squint at the cup in front of her. She turns back to smirk cheekily at her. _“Osakabehime?”_

If she had been in one of her shoujo mangas, she was sure Musashi would have had one of those flower filters on her then, framing her face. Sure, the splash of what appeared to be mocha sauce on her cheek kind of ruined the image, but she was as princely as possible in that one moment.

“That’s a really cute name,” Musashi continued. Osakabehime watched as she poured milk, queued shots and worked the bar like a pro, leaning over for certain syrups or a new cup, all the while turning back to smile back at Osakabehime every so often. “-Hime is for princess, right?”

“Y-yeah,” she responds, “And Musashi, for ‘warrior and possess’?”

Musashi waved her hand down and scoffed. “I don’t know anything about that, I think my parents just really liked a guy on TV named that.”

She looked back down at Osakabehime’s drink, pouring the steamed milk in with the shots before topping it up with some caramel drizzle and whipped cream. “Four shots of espresso, huh? Big day ahead?”

Osakabehime blushed. Four wasn’t her maximum—one day she had scared another barista, Okita, when she had asked for a venti cup full of simply espresso—but suddenly it felt like a giant amount. Maybe she should have simply stuck to the regular two shots? Did she look like some kind of caffeine addict? Well, she kind of was—and a lazy one at that, she couldn’t even wake up earlier to try and make some coffee at home…

“Well whatever’s coming, I hope this helps!” Musashi passes the drink out and gives her another winning smile. “Good luck today!”

“T-thank you.” Osakabehime replied, grabbing her drink.

“And will I be seeing you tomorrow?”

She racked her brain for her exam schedule. She still had one more before she could bundle herself up under her kotatsu and binge watch all of the seasonal anime she had missed during the semester. Tomorrow she had another full day of studying planned. She could probably do that from home. Save her the five dollars for her drink. Plus, she wouldn’t have to get out of her pajamas, and she could sleep in more, and it had been snowing for the past couple of days—

Musashi cocked her head to the side. She waited patiently for Osakabehime’s response.

Her chest felt light.

“Y-yes,” she coughed, “Yes you will.”

Musashi beamed in response. “Great! Then I will see you tomorrow, Osakabehime!”

As she walked out of the door, her drink in her hand, all she could feel is her heart beating rapidly against her chest.

\--

She didn’t need to be awake at this hour.

She nursed her cold cup in her hands. She had left it out in her car the night before and the cold had stuck to it like a curse. The last night’s snow had made her leave twenty minutes later as she tried to scrape off it off of her windshield. The roads were slippery and an asshole honked at her when they didn’t wait their turn at the four-way stop, and thought they had the right-of-way. 

Plus, she was tired. As a celebration for finishing most of her exams, she had stayed up the night before and watched some anime and ordered in a pizza. Osakabehime hadn’t even realized she hadn’t turned off her alarm for that day until it screamed at her that morning, telling her to get up and out of bed.

She should have just hit snooze.

But.

She looked up from her cup to see the bright smile at the till. There she was, again, working her third opening in a row now, and if that had bothered Musashi, the way she happily chatted with customers made it so it didn’t come through.

When Osakabehime had hit her alarm off, and considered slinking back into the sheets to sleep in, a tiny voice crept in. 

_And will I be seeing you tomorrow?_

So now she was here. Cold cup in hands and all of the necessary study materials. She rarely studied outside of her room—why would you want to study anywhere else besides under your kotatsu, anyways—and wondered how much she would be able to retain, anyways. But her final exam was tomorrow night, and even if she wished to simply give up now, this was the last leg. 

“Ah! Princess!”

Her train of thought is cut off when Musashi calls out to her and she realizes she’s been holding up the line. She scurries to the till and carefully places her cup down. It’s only when she looks up to meet Musashi’s gaze that the compliment hits her and she blushes hard.

“T-that’s not my name!” she stammers, playing with her scarf as a means to do something with her jittery hands.

Musashi cocks her head, “Didn’t you say yesterday that your name has the word princess in it?”

“I mean, y-yes, but p-princess?”

Musashi twists her lips and pouts. “Hm, alright.” She poses her hands up, ready to tap on the screen. “The regular?”

Osakabehime nods, “Yes, a salted caramel mocha please, with whip.”

“Perfect, perfect,” Musashi comments as she punches the order in. She looks up to smile again at her, “How many shots do you need today?”

Her heart tells her she still needs the four—but her mind goes with the regular, two.

Musashi completes typing the order and Osakabehime quickly scans her phone again. 

“And you brought in your cup today! Awesome,” Musashi says. There’s a brief pause as Osakabehime awkwardly wrangles off the lid. “Oh, your cup is cool! DBZ, yeah?” 

Typically, Osakabehime is embarrassed. Sure, Dragon Ball Z is one of those pieces of nerd culture that most people her age can at least recognize. Sure, some cool people have watched the show. It is not the most embarrassing piece of anime media one can consume. Yet, the first time that Ex had recognized it, Osakabehime had been hit with a wall of embarrassment, and had barely been able to respond with a meek ‘yes’.

This time, however.

“Y-yes,” she replies, “Do you watch?”

Musashi shrugs and looks at the cup a little longer, “Only a little, there’s so much, you know! Sometimes if it’s on TV I’ll watch it while all of the references go above my head. It’s like a comic book, right? There are probably so many points of entry, I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

Osakabehime’s grip on her scarf tightens. She fights the desire to explain where she could start. Her favourite parts. The fact that it’s technically not a comic book but.

She swallows it down hard and laughs along. “Yeah!”

“It’s pretty fun though,” Musashi comments. She lifts the cup. “And don’t worry, I’ll warm the cup up for you. It’s a bit chilly.”

“T-thank you,” Osakabehime responds. 

She wants to talk longer. She wants to ask her if she watches anything else. She wants to know what she does, how she randomly appeared here one day but doesn’t require any training, whatever she’s into—

But a quick scan behind her makes her realize she’s already held up the line way too much. Osakabehime offers her another small wave before rushing to the bar to pick up her drink.

\--

Studying here isn’t working.

Even with her headphones, she can’t stop hearing Musashi’s cute voice over her music. She may have holed herself up in a corner of the store, successfully snagging up a plugin, but she can’t help herself from looking up every so often to see what Musashi’s doing. 

One time, she’s staring with rapt attention as a customer vents about their day to her. The next, she’s laughing with a co-worker because a can of whipped cream exploded everywhere. Osakabehime watches quietly as the rush comes in, and she focuses hard on making drinks, only breaking her concentration to talk to a customer. And the way her voice carries—it’s like an army general’s commanding voice, even if it’s just to call out a person’s order at the bar.

 _Oh boy, I’m really deep into it now,_ she thinks.

Thankfully, she eventually gets into the groove and the espresso kicks in. Her mind can focus on the lecture slides and previous notes. She’s half-way through the lectures when her curiosity sneaks back in and her eyes flutter back up to see what Musashi’s up to now.

She scans behind the bar. She’s not making drinks. She’s not at the till. Osakabehime can’t find her. Did she go home? Maybe, it was almost eleven at that point. Her shoulders fell. 

Wait. Why was she disappointed? Did she really think that Musashi had been watching her back? She was just a customer, she had to be nice to her. Heck, she might not have been able to see her with the way she had hid herself in the corner of the store.

“How’s the studying going?”

Osakabehime jumps in her chair. She slowly pulls her headphones down and turns to see Musashi, leaning over behind her and reading off her slides.

“Ooh, economics huh? Good luck,” Musashi says as she stands up straight. “To be honest, I’ve never been good at math. All those numbers! It’s amazing I’m able to remember all the specifics for the drinks, honestly.”

She’s rambling. But that’s partly because Osakabehime doesn’t know how to respond. This angle, where Osakabehime is looking up at her, makes her look more like a hero and less a Spacebucks barista.

And partly because it’s kind of cute, she thinks, as Musashi says whatever pops into her mind. 

“Do you have an exam coming up?” Musashi asks, and Osakabehime suddenly realizes she’ll have to answer one of her questions.

“Um…yes, yeah I have this one tomorrow.”

Musashi gives her a thumbs up and a wink. “Good luck! I’m sure you’ll do great! I mean,” she nods down at Osakabehime’s notes, “Anyone who colour-codes their notes has to do well.”

Osakabehime decides it’s best not to tell her she only colour-codes because she likes using the different Sailor Moon pens.

“Thank you,” Osakabehime says, “Y-yeah, it helps me remember things more.” Not a total lie, but not the full reason, either.

Musashi placed her hand on her hip and scowled. “But aren’t we getting close to the end of the year? Shouldn’t you be done soon?”

Osakabehime nodded, “After this one I’m done.”

“Oh awesome!” She nodded back to the counter. “Well, then I will leave you to it, I gotta brew some more coffee, anyways. Can’t be out on the floor for too long. Plus, I don’t want to distract you!”

Unfortunately for Osakabehime, even after Musashi left her to go back to doing her work, she continued to distract her. She couldn’t find that groove again, and instead just found herself half-playing an idol game on her phone, half-watching Musashi run around, brew coffee, and clean up messes. Osakabehime tried her best not to watch too intently when she was asked to bring some boxes to the back, and her biceps seemed to stretch against the fabric of her shirt.

_Oh boy._

She had finished up the lecture slides when Musashi appeared from the back without her apron. Instead she donned a winter jacket, and surprisingly to Osakabehime, large maple leaf earrings. She waved at her co-workers, twirling her key around her index finger, before her gaze met Osakabehime’s.

She sauntered up slowly, giving Osakabehime enough time to register the full outfit. Blue jeans that seemed to hug everything perfectly, and a big, puffy winter jacket with some red gloves and a scarf that she had messily tied up. She stopped at the table and leaned on the back of the chair opposite to Osakabehime’s.

“Good luck on your exam!” Musashi said again, “You’re so close, you’re almost there!” 

Osakabehime nodded and gave her a weak smile, “Yes, thank you!”

Musashi patted the back of the chair and started to walk off. She turned back on her heel and pointed at her. “I don’t work tomorrow, but are you gonna be in on Thursday?”

Osakabehime wracked her brain. She had her last exam day tomorrow. She would be free. Her plans were binging anime and catching up on manga she didn’t have time to read. She would finally be able to work on art again. She had enough food at home to last her until Christmas. She had no reason to leave her home until then, and even less if she just ordered food. She could spend the rest of the year in pajamas.

And yet.

“S-sure!”

Musashi smiled softly and gave her a wink, “Then I’ll see you then!”

_Oh, I’m really fucked now._

\--

It didn’t snow on Wednesday, leaving the snow from days past to settle and shape, finding their homes until they would be shoveled or melted away. If the snow didn’t disappear, it looked like it was going to be a cold but White Christmas.

She had needed the luck. The economics exam had hit her strong like a truck. Osakabehime had studied well, but questions had popped out of nowhere. Things that the professor had only mentioned briefly turned out to be 10-point questions, and the multiple choice, which always seemed like a gift from God, left Osakabehime questioning until the three hours were over. She left the exam room confused and hitting herself for having skipped so many of the classes. 

She spent the rest of the night doodling in her sketchbook while half-paying attention to the live action stage musical of her favourite anime. The two male leads danced on screen with doe eyes and wrestled with their emotions. If she had been in her right mind, she would have been nose pressed to the screen, live-tweeting about how much it validated her ship – take that those who shipped the male leads with their enemies – but she could only find herself doodling a certain woman in maple-leaf earrings.

Osakabehime allowed herself to sleep in Thursday. She didn’t know when Musashi was working, but if she got in sometime around noon, she’d at least get a glimpse of her.

Slowly she pulled herself out of her bed after spending an hour scrolling through her social media, before gathering her purse and phone, bundling herself up in some warm wintery clothes. The temperature dropped last night, and she hadn’t plugged her car in for the night so the battery sighed when she turned the key in. It was a rusty shit bag of a car, but she didn’t want to push it too much.

Guess she was walking.

The Spacebucks wasn’t too far away, and she slipped on her headphones. Upbeat, poppy idol music pushed her forward while her body demanded that she go back into the warmth. Her tears pricked at her eyes at the cold wind on her face and whenever she took a deep breath her lungs waned at the cold air. She wiggled her toes in her boots as she waited for the light to change in hopes that that would warm them up.

Gosh, why did her university have to be in Antarctica?

Compared to the rest of the cold and dreary, the coffee shop looked like a warm hearth. It wasn’t a surprise then that most seats were taken when she glanced around. She hadn’t planned spending the whole day there like Tuesday, but it would have been nice to defrost here for a little before rushing back home.

“Oh, look at you!” 

And suddenly her cheeks felt warm.

Musashi was leaning down, putting water bottles and things in the cold drink case, a bunch of water bottles pressed between her chest and her arm so she could hold up to six. Oh, how Osakabehime desperately wished she could be a water bottle right then.

The barista quickly put the water bottles away before standing upright and smiling at her. “You look absolutely frozen! Don’t you know it’s below thirty with the windchill?” She walked up and pressed her hands to Osakabehime’s cheeks.

This was weird. This was weird, right? People you’ve only seen three times, in a professional manner no less, someone you’ve only met that week, it’s weird to put your hands on their cheeks, right? Sure, they were probably around the same age, and Musashi was a goddess in disguise, and this would probably make sense in a shoujo manga but, but, but, but! It didn’t make sense in real life!

“Ah, ah, ah, M-Musashi,” she stutters out.

But her hands are so warm. Her fingers are so long, and cup her cheeks so nicely. They smelled like soap and coffee. If she only moved her hands a little, she could tilt her chin up, a perfect angle for…for what? Osakabehime tried her best to not look at her lips—the pretty pink, the softness of them, the way her cupid’s bow dipped deliciously…

“Sorry!” Musashi finally realized the mistake and pulled her hands away. She looked down at her hands. “Don’t worry, I washed my hands recently…And I thought I should try and warm you up.”

She ducks back behind the counter and washes her hands quickly. Osakabehime slinks to the cash, threading her fingers and watching Musashi bounce around. Even just washing her hands, she seems like a famous warrior—Osakabehime imagines her expertly cleaning her hands from the blood of her enemies. 

“So, all done with the semester, now?” Musashi asks. She leans one arm against the food case, the other hand dangling over the screen where she punches in orders. Osakabehime notices that a couple of strands have escaped her loose ponytail, and she fights the urge to cup her face and brush them behind her ear.

“Yep,” Osakabehime responds.

This is awkward, isn’t it. 

She can’t carry a conversation. 

Musashi is just asking her questions because she needs to make customer connections. 

She’s only asking her to come in every day to help with sales. 

She doesn’t actually care about seeing her during her shift. 

And Osakabehime is playing directly into it.

“And how are you celebrating?” Musashi asks. A wide smile is on her lips and anticipation flashes in her eyes.

Suddenly, Osakabehime loses her worries. Even if her worries are the truth, the way that Musashi studies her when she’s speaking, it almost feels like she’s the protagonist, their roles are reversed. She’s the one who is framed with roses.

Osakabehime sighs and smiles softly, “Sleeping in.”

And Musashi laughs, the sweet sound that rings through her ears like bells, and Osakabehime’s smile grows. She didn’t even think it was that funny—it was the truth, really—but the reaction is so genuine and nice and suddenly she’s trying to remember every joke, every pun and stupid story she can come up with to hear that laugh again.

“Sleeping in is always the best treat after exams,” Musashi agrees. “Except maybe for a frappuccino—after a long shift I always get a caramel ribbon crunch but well, it’s probably too cold for that.”

She raises her fingers up to the screen, like a conductor waiting for their queue to begin. Right, Osakabehime is here to purchase something—and she can see a small line forming behind her due to them talking. The lunch rush must be starting soon, she should hurry up.

But she does want to keep on talking. How cruel, it feels like the only time she’s actually wanted to keep talking.

“How about…a peppermint hot chocolate, then?” Osakabehime asks, her eyes studying the poster boards. The Christmas drinks have been out for almost two months, now, but she’s kept to her usual nonetheless. But today feels special. Musashi is right—she deserves something for finishing exams.

“Nice choice, I love those,” Musashi compliments her and starts punching her order in. “And what size?”

“I’ll grab a grande.”

“Should I ask for it to be extra hot? To help warm you up?”

Osakabehime shakes her head with a smile, “I wouldn’t be able to drink it immediately if it were.”

Musashi nods approvingly and finishes, Osakabehime scans the barcode with her app, and suddenly the transaction is done.

She knows she should move over to wait for her drink. That the line has grown longer. That she should move already. But. Maybe she’s imagining things, but there’s a look in Musashi’s face that makes her feel like maybe. Maybe Musashi wants her to stay chatting, too.

“Have a great day, Princess.”

Osakabehime takes the compliment with a small smile and nods. “You too, Musashi.”

She slinks over to the bar. Ecchan greets her with a cool wave and she waves back. She doesn’t chat much with her, but maybe Ecchan can tell that her eyes are stuck on Musashi. 

A customer gets angry with her over a poorly made drink at another Spacebucks, and Osakabehime watches as she apologizes heavily and promises to make it properly for her. She quells the desire to walk over there and punch the customer in the face for making Musashi grovel. A prince shouldn’t apologize—especially not for someone else’s actions.

“There you are, Hime,” Ecchan says and passes the drink over.

“Thank you.” The cup is hot, definitely, but it doesn’t compare to the warmth of Musashi’s hands.

“You know, she’s taken,” Ecchan comments coolly, her hands working on another drink.

“What?”

“Musashi. There’s a guy on her phone background. Like,” she pauses to pour some steamed milk in, “She’s one of those people who don’t have an anime or k-pop guy on their phone wallpaper, but a real guy. He’s gotta be her boyfriend.”

Osakabehime’s cup crashes to the ground.

“Oh shit!” Osakabehime’s hands are covered in burning hot milk, and it splashes onto her legs. She feels gross and embarrassed and _stupid_ for dropping hot chocolate on herself.

“Sorry,” Ecchan apologizes and grabs a cloth and tries to help clean up the spill from her side of the bar. Osakabehime grabs some napkins from the condiments stand behind her and starts mopping the hot chocolate on the floor. Her hands feel hot and sting as she moves them. It was good she hadn’t chosen extra hot—she may have given herself third degree burns. She kneels on the ground, attempting pitifully to pat up the spill with napkins, biting down on her lip so she doesn’t start crying over how ridiculous she’s being.

“Princess!” 

And suddenly, she’s there, looking down at her, with a look of worry that hits Osakabehime straight to the heart. She stops what she’s doing, watching as Musashi kneels down in front of her and takes her hands.

“Did you burn yourself?” Musashi asks.

“Um, no, no I’m fine, it just stings a little,” Osakabehime explains. Musashi is studying her hands carefully, turning them around to see any signs of early burns.

She’s a prince. She ran over here to make sure she’s okay. She’s worried about her.

This can’t just be about making a customer connection, right?

“Are you alright?” Musashi asks.

“Yes, I’m alright.” 

“You should still run it under some cold water,” Musashi says, “Even for a little bit. Come on.”

She carefully pulls Osakabehime up to her feet and guides her to the door, letting her wash her hands in private. Her hands are suddenly a welcome coolness, they are firm, commanding—they are safe. Her hands are not smooth, but feel like they’ve been on hundred adventures, and Osakabehime is safe in them.

“What about the floor?” Osakabehime asks when she’s ran her hands under cold water for a minute and her hands have cooled down. 

“Alter’s already mopped it up,” Musashi nods in the direction of the pale girl, donned in all black, who is leading the mop bucket back into the back room.

“Sorry, that was silly,” Osakabehime grasps her purse strap. 

“Don’t worry! People spill all the time. Heck, one time I knocked over three whole litres of mocha and had to get someone to clean it up for me,” Musashi laughs awkwardly as she remembered the memory. “As the saying goes—no use crying over spilled milk.”

She leads her back to the bar, where Ecchan has constructed a new cup of peppermint hot chocolate. “Sorry, Osakabehime,” Ecchan repeats, and Osakabehime notices the extra chocolate swirls on top.

“Hey, you didn’t drive today, did you?” Musashi asks.

Why is she still here? Doesn’t she have customers to be with? Shouldn’t she be back on till? She understands helping her when she spilled on herself, but isn’t this too much? Why her?

“My car wouldn’t start this morning,” Osakabehime admits.

“Ah, yeah, my car is a legend, I think I could put Sunny D in her gas tank and she’d still run,” Musashi laughs. Osakabehime laughs along—she doesn’t understand cars, but her laugh is contagious. 

The laughter dies down and slips into awkwardness once again. Musashi rubs the back of her neck and looks off to the side. “I ugh, I finish my shift in about fifteen minutes.”

Oh, so she’s just talking with her to stall time, that makes sense.

“So, I was wondering if,” Musashi continues, “If you’d like a ride home.”

Osakabehime’s mouth opens in surprise. 

“I’m not a weirdo, of course! It’s just super cold out there and you walked here, right? My commute is super short too and driving is fun, and as long as you don’t like, live on Mount Everest then well it shouldn’t be too hard, right?”

This is weird, right? Osakabehime shouldn’t accept—not due to Musashi being a ‘weirdo’, but because it would be overstepping. They’ve only known each other for three days.

And yet.

“If it’s not too much,” Osakabehime accepts. 

Musashi’s face lights up. She can almost see the sparks that fly, she looks so happy. “Awesome! Alright, just sit tight until noon!”

And so Osakabehime finds a chair, right in front of the cash register, and waits patiently.

\--

“I hope it’s alright if we stop quickly for some groceries,” Musashi says as they slide into their respective car seats. 

Osakabehime quickly does up her seatbelt, placing her purse squarely on her lap, and looks around the inside of her car. It smells like Spacebucks, and both cupholders are being used by reusable cups. On the dashboard there’s a page of coupons for a burger joint—with a couple ripped off. Hanging from the rear- view mirror is a parking pass, and a sticker in the far left of the windshield alerts Osakabehime that she is two months overdue for an oil change.

She can’t judge her for the messiness of her car—she knows for certainty that there’s Subway wrappers and opened mail in her own backseat.

“Not at all, I need to pick up some things, too,” Osakabehime comments. A lie, she’s still good until Christmas, but she’s running low on snacks, and she’s been craving mandarins. “If…if that’s alright.”

“Yeah of course! Baby’s got enough room in the back for an entire orchestra!” Musashi jokes, as she starts moving the car out of the parking space.

Osakabehime is not good when it comes to watching other people drive—she has to train herself from commenting on people’s driving, so she instead focuses on Musashi.

“I’ve got some of my high school friends coming for Christmas Eve,” Musashi explains, “It’s something we’ve done since freshman year, where we celebrate Christmas together before we celebrate Christmas with the family. Usually we do like karaoke or bowling—anything that’s open on Christmas Eve, basically.”

“That’s sweet,” Osakabehime finds herself saying. Her thoughts drift back to high school. She only had two friends from high school she still talked to, but they were both in different cities, miles away. If they wanted to do something, they’d have to take trains. Osakabehime was the only one who had an apartment to herself, too, and that would still require them sleeping on the couch or sharing beds. She’ll stick to their Discord chat instead.

“Yeah! It’s always nice to see them,” Musashi says, her eyes focused on making a left-hand turn, “Especially after a long semester. You can just say screw it and get drunk, it’s great.”

“Do you go to school?” Osakabehime asks. She hadn’t mentioned going to school, but she talks in a way that makes it seem like she has—maybe she works mornings so she can take classes at night?

Musashi sighs, “Ah yeah, well, I tried to get into paramedics, but I messed up the paperwork, so I gotta wait until next year.” Paramedics—that makes sense, she looks like the type that would save people’s lives. “So, I’m just working for now.”

“That’s nothing to be ashamed about though,” Osakabehime comments, “I haven’t had a job yet.” Well, she did take commissions, but she wasn’t going to explain to her about what was a vore kink and why people sent her money for it.

“Thanks!” Musashi laughs. “It’s honestly really fun—all of my co-workers are great. Although, the manager, the _Lion King_ as we call her? She’s a little intense.”

Osakabehime nods. She’s seen the manager a couple of times—tall, imposing, with eyes that cut through you. Yep, she can see her being intense.

“Have you been a barista for long?” Osakabehime asks. For some reason, she wants to know everything about her. She’s only seen her for a couple of days, but she works like a pro. 

“Just over a year,” Musashi responds as she changes lanes. “I used to do part-time when I was just out of high school, now I’m doing ‘as much as I can get’. I moved to this store though cause it's closer to where I live.” The light turns red and she turns to smile at Osakabehime. “But enough about me—what about you?”

She blushes hard and looks back down at her purse. “What…what about me?”

Musashi shrugs, “Well you’re in school obviously—what are you taking?”

“I’m majoring in visual arts,” Osakabehime answers, “But this semester was more of the extra courses I have to take—economics, art history, astronomy for a science.”

Musashi nods, “So you do art huh? I could tell.”

“And…and how did you figure that out?”

“Aren’t all weebs artists?” Musashi grins and pulls forward as the light changes to green. “Either that or they write fanfiction.”

Osakabehime did both, but this was an attack to her pride, “I didn’t go to university for visual arts just cause I’m a ‘weeb’.” She does finger quotes.

“Ah, no, I didn’t mean it like that,” Musashi taps her fingers on the wheel. “I mean like…it must be nice to like something so much that it inspires you.” 

“Oh.”

The car becomes silent. Osakabehime feels silly. She’s spent her life trying to defend her choices—from art teachers to her friends to her parents. She’s felt the embarrassment of using a DBZ mug, she’s felt the stares from her classmates when she wears an anime shirt on laundry day. She knew how fast she would have to be to hide the anime boys on her phone wallpaper. She understood the connotation of the word ‘weeb’. She automatically moved to defensive mode, and now she’s made things bad.

The car slides into a parking spot and Musashi turns the key. “Well. Shall we?”

She wants nothing more than to escape the claustrophobic feeling of the car. “Yes, let’s go.”

\--

Musashi is shopping on an empty stomach, it appears, as whatever her eyes land on she throws into her cart. Osakabehime walks as closely as she can in those cramped aisles. The radio blasts Christmas music—she thinks she can make out Michael Bublé—and garlands hang from the lights. A Santa with a pot hangs around the front doors.

“It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas,” Osakabehime mumbles to herself.

Musashi laughs, “I know right! Of course, Christmas started for me when the drinks launched, but now everyone is fully shifted into Christmas mode! And did you hear, on the radio they said that it’ll be a White Christmas! That’s so exciting, I was so bummed when there was no snow last year.”

She’s rambling, but Osakabehime doesn’t mind, letting her go on about how the morning radio show is giving out tickets and Musashi is tempted to call in one day.

Osakabehime picks up some chocolates and some chips, as well as some more pop, filling up her basket until it’s difficult to carry. Musashi fills up her cart with anything and everything—pop, chips, cookies, chocolates, eggnog (she already bought enough alcohol, apparently), and some quick hors d’oeuvres that can be thrown in the oven.

“Hm, I don’t remember what kind of pop he drinks,” Musashi says to herself as they stand in the pop and chips aisle. She shrugs her shoulders and pulls her phone out of her pocket, slipping off her gloves to tap on the screen. A couple of seconds later she has the phone to her ear, and her other hand on her hip. “Fucker better pick up.”

A few seconds pass before a smile dons her face. “Hey you’re awake!” She frowns, “Yeah, I said that. I mean, you once missed out on our brunch because you slept until two.” 

Osakabehime simply watches from beside her. She’s rather expressive, as her face changes depending on what the person on the other line says. They must be close friends. She called him a ‘fucker’ and she’s making fun of him. Osakabehime wonders if she could call her friends that. They’d probably just call her a shut-in.

“Okay so it’s root beer, right? Which brand?” Musashi nods, “Alright, cool. I’ll grab you a case and I’ll drink whatever you don’t.” The conversation draws itself to a close. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll pick you up, you just gotta text me first. Cool. Alright, see you then.”

She smiles and turns back to Osakabehime. “That was Koji—one of my friends from high school.”

“You two must be close,” Osakabehime comments.

“Oh yeah! Definitely.” Musashi turns her phone to her, and there, as Ecchan explained, is a guy on her wallpaper. But he’s definitely not what she was imagining—he appears to be making a weird pose, and he has his tongue out. It’s silly. 

“That’s him. His full name is Sasaki Kojirou, and he has me on his wallpaper, too. See, it’s the Team Rocket pose! Cause you know, Musashi, Kojirou, like the anime?”

She pushes her phone back into her pocket. “But he wants to change it to some k-pop girl he’s into, I told him that that was lame.” She rolls her eyes.

A wave of relief crashes over Osakabehime. Ecchan had misunderstood. 

“Who do you have as your background?” Musashi asks as they make their way to the check-out.

“He’s from an idol game,” Osakabehime responds. She pulls her phone out and shows her Ryuunosuke from IDOLISH7. If Musashi didn’t care, it doesn’t show on her face as she nods approvingly.

“Yeah he’s pretty hot,” Musashi comments as she starts putting things on the belt. “I guess most people have anime or k-pop boys on their phone wallpaper now, huh.”

Osakabehime shrugs her shoulders, “I think people also have their friends and partners.”

Musashi dips her head down and sighs, “I should let Koji change his wallpaper then, shouldn’t I.”

She gives her a soft smile and nods. 

Musashi groans, “It’ll be weird if it’s only me who does the joke, then people will think that he’s my crush or we’re dating or something.”

“Definitely.” She didn’t even know the half of it.

“Then I’m gonna need someone else as my wallpaper,” Musashi complains. She finishes putting everything on the belt and moves to talk to the check-out lady, leaving Osakabehime to quietly wait for space.

\--

“What about you?” Musashi asks after they’ve successfully put everything inside the back of her car. She’s right—there’s more than enough space for the two of them to get groceries.

“What?” Osakabehime does up her seatbelt, settling her purse by her feet.

“Can I throw you on my wallpaper? Then when Koji asks who it is I can be like, oh you know, it’s just this really popular model, she let me take a picture of her and I decided to make her my background,” she turns the key and they’re off again.

Osakabehime’s mind whirls. “I…I don’t think I’m model level.”

Musashi raises an eyebrow, “You don’t think so?” She frowns. “You’re like…A classic beauty, you know? Like wow, I could see you in a black and white movie, that type of beauty.”

Osakabehime’s blush covers the majority of her face, so she looks out the window in order to keep Musashi from seeing her face.

“T-thank you,” is all she can muster.

“You’re welcome!” Musashi laughs, “But alright, I won’t put you as my wallpaper until you agree to it. Hm, guess I gotta keep on thinking about what to put there.”

Musashi is good at keeping her talking. They talk about Christmas, and family, and where they’re going to be soon. Osakabehime explains that her parents are in Australia for the break, so she’s just staying here for the time off. Musashi tells her about her family and their dogs, and how they always climb on her whenever she’s back.

“But I’m only going to be there for a couple of days, the Christmas to New Years time is always hell for Spacebucks, and I took Christmas Eve off, so I need to work at least New Year’s Eve,” Musashi explains. “I was able to snag a day off on New Year’s Day, which is sweet. I always go to the temple as early to keep up the tradition.”

Osakabehime remembers those mornings, having to wake up early and dress up, the still, cold morning air of the new year and the crowds. It’s been a while. Usually she just watches the New Year specials from the warmth of her kotatsu.

“But,” Musashi groans, “None of my friends are staying until New Year’s Day, they all gotta be back home by then. And none of my co-workers besides Okita do the temple thing, and she’s going with her girlfriend.”

“Are you going to go then?”

Musashi shrugs, “I’d like to of course, but I don’t feel comfortable going to places by myself. I always feel weird.”

A silence falls over the car. Osakabehime knows this moment. That she should speak up. But no: she’s already stepped on Musashi’s toes enough, that would be way too much. This must be something important for her. No, it would be weird for a customer that she’s only known for three days to accompany her, right?

“What about you?” Musashi asks. They slowly pull up to her apartment building.

“Me?”

“Would you like to come with me?” 

Osakabehime’s fingers fiddle with the seatbelt. She wants to look away, but her eyes are so beautiful, and she can’t help but study the way the maple leaf earrings frame her face, or the way her bangs settle. She knows that once she gets out of this car and gets back into her apartment, she’ll be coming up with excuses for as to why she needs to visit the Spacebucks when Musashi is working. 

“I’d love to.”

And Musashi’s face lights up again, and Osakabehime is once again drawn in. 

“Awesome! Alright, here, I’ll give you my number so we can co-ordinate things.”

\--

Osakabehime finds herself in her apartment. It feels cold and lonely. She fires up her kettle after putting away the groceries, and leans over her counter. She looks at her phone—Musashi’s number is now in her phone. It feels like she’s collected the important key that will help her win the game.

She sighs and opens up Discord, and finds Tamamo’s name.

Osakbae-hime, Today at 3:21p.m:  
Hey, hypothetically, how do you know if someone asked you out on a date?

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! okay this is the first part because this is super long lol and if i post the first part then maybe it'll make me finish the second.
> 
> \- the joke about spacebucks is that all of the saberfaces work there. spacebucks is in fate btw, that's where mhxa stops. ecchan is mhxa, and ex is mhx, alter is salter and well the others should be obvious.  
> \- yes, you can ubereats starbucks.   
> \- salted caramel mocha, in a grande: 4 pumps of mocha, 4 pumps of toffee nut syrup, shots of espresso (usually 2), steamed milk, whipped cream, caramel drizzle and salt topping  
> \- caramel ribbon crunch frappuccino: this drink is very good and a favourite of mine after a long shift but holy shit it's a bitch to make. please don't order these lol.  
> \- at starbucks you are either doing a) cash b) bar or c) customer support or CS, where you run around and brew coffee, clean the condiments stand and talk to customers. when osakabehime is studying and musashi shows up, musashi is doing CS  
> \- wow i didn't mean for this to be a commentary on how being a weeb makes me feel embarrassed. wow.   
> \- i did actually spill a full thing of mocha while on bar. my front was covered in chocolate sauce.


End file.
